Finding Atlas

And then I felt angry. Angry with myself, angry with Atlas, angry with the words that came from my parted lips because Atlas was right. Atlas was right about everything. I'd said it myself; maybe he wasn't being fair to me or himself, but I wasn't being fair, either. So doubt clouded my mind. What right did I have, just coming to his house without any announcement? What right did I have, knocking on his doorstep and expecting him to welcome me with open arms when I had berated him just days before?

I drove back to Bardia's, feeling morose and disappointed, desperately in need of another hot chocolate. Upon seeing my entrance, Alphonse cheered––at least, before he saw my expression.

"What's wrong, chérie? Did something happen at home?" He asked before walking around the counter to embrace me.

"Boys are frustrating," I said, my voice muffled by Alphonse's flannel-clad shoulder. His raucous laugh resounded through the café before he let me go and held me inches away, his hands grasping my cheeks.

"Chérie, boys, men, they are always frustrating! They just need to find that one person to make their wild hearts settle down! Now, who is this boy you are talking about? Do I need to, ah, give 'im a one-two?" His hands formed fists as he chuckled, and I couldn't help but smile in response.

"If I say his name, am I necessarily romantically involved with him in your amorous mind?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Of course you are! And don't make me 'ave to use drastic measures against you, because I will, ma bichette!"

Though the rational part of me knew I shouldn't have told blabber-mouth Alphonse, his hopeful eyes broke me down and Atlas's name escaped my lips before I could stop it. Alphonse shook his head, a smile gracing his lips.

"That boy has a very wild heart, I'll have you know. And his mind, even wilder! And you? I think you could settle that heart down and ease that mind. C'est toi, tu ne vois pas?" And he shuffled away, smile never leaving his face.